Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 517: Hope Remains
There is a constant stream of visitors.

There were self-recommended people, self-righteous people, some spies and assassins, but of course, it was a pity that there were no more good guys like the Qiu Lisas they had frozen in the laboratory.

More job interviews - sometimes you have to identify those who are just trying to get by, so many times you have to take time out to do the screening yourself.

Also because there were too many secrets and they were very worried about other people's designs, they drew the engineering drawings of new laboratories, wards, and cells themselves - fortunately Grendel now finally knew how to use ancient drawing equipment to copy the drawings!
Vannus was very busy. Not only did he have to watch out for thieves, vagrants, or people with ulterior motives who tried to sneak into the lower levels of the star fortress, but he also had to help Honso and Mercury supervise those clumsy or dirty "workers" to do the on-site plastering, redecorate and paint the facade of the Inflexible, order new statues and decorations (there was no time to make them himself!), replenish damaged weapon defense systems, empty warehouses; and the newly added room ruins in some places inside all needed more new technical talents to come and repair...

This is what Hong Suo and his crew did after they ran back to the Indomitable at a sprint, seemingly calmly but in fact at full speed.

"We are racing against time!" Hong Suo told each of his trusted members, "The sooner we use our own manpower to repair these facilities and fill them with supplies, supervisors, operating staff and slaves, the lower the chance of outsiders being stuffed in. I think you would prefer to live in a safer fortress, right?"

Of course, since His Highness Robert Mercury Guilliman could not bear to hear any more of Luft Huron's nonsense even in his dreams and punched a wall when he came back, he angrily said that he had made the right choice to follow Hongsuo to see if this lawless traitor who wanted to establish himself as emperor was really his son, Guilliman, it would be his duty to wipe him out and kill him with the sword - the axe!
"You must know that I will never allow an Astartes carrying my gene name to establish an evil and hypocritical empire here!!"

The Ultramarines' Primarch was so agitated and indignant that the Apothecary spotted a faint red aura beginning to linger in the void behind him - and politely turned his gaze away from the golden light that was struggling inseparably with the red light.

"Yes, yes, that's true. I know you are upright, wise, sharp-eyed, and hate evil. But you see, Your Highness, I dare to think that you are one of the Primarchs who is most willing to listen to the advice of your subordinates, so why don't you listen to me first..."

The master of alchemy finally managed to persuade the Lord of the Ultramarines, who had already drawn the axe from his waist again, and even said things like "Uncle Thirteen, our mission is related to the life and death of other brothers and the future of the Ultramarines. It doesn't matter if we die, but what if you are trapped here? Think about your sons and Macragge, you must be patient!" He kept saying these words as if they were free of charge, which made Vannas, who came to bring them afternoon tea, shudder with fear.

Strangely, although the Primarch severely criticized Huron for his artificial and poor imitation of some noble being when they first met, he was very tolerant of Hongso's nonsense. Even the Chaos believers and pirates such as Nosa Aitassia and Katya Salumba, who he later reported and introduced to the Primarch as "this is my commander when I was away" and "this is our fleet commander", as well as their subordinates' words and deeds, only made the Primarch frown and complain.

It is obvious that Lord Macragge is indeed a hero. His ability to adapt to the environment and his patience after recognizing the current situation are far superior to most of his brothers.

But a Primarch who is dissatisfied with the members of your fortress can also be dealt with by a lot of work - only Honso dares to do this here - of course, Robert Guilliman's multi-threaded work processing ability is indeed unparalleled in the world, but after all, he only has one body, two legs and two hands. It is feasible for him to pilot an Inflexible, but he still cannot be present at every construction site of the huge Inflexible that is in urgent need of new construction and maintenance.

The slaves in charge of the construction - especially those who were less polluted in the whirlpool - were not only extremely inefficient, but also almost incapable of effective communication due to lack of education. They were always hungry, sleepy, injured, sick... They needed more whips and supervisors walking around the site and whipping their backs to barely maintain their efficiency and produce something presentable.

This was the first surrender of "Mercuris" after thirteen working days, after he had to rework countless times and had to clean up the mess and change all the work schedules and supporting plans in his mind. He walked out confidently with a work schedule and said that whipping and enslavement were not humane and he was enough.

"All right." Mercury strode into the command center and threw a new stack of data pads and parchment rolls precisely onto the growing pile of documents on Honso's desk. "The new defense corridor connecting the central district and the south has been completed, and the construction of the southern dock is also progressing as planned."

But he sounded very frustrated.

Hong Suo looked at the unhappy face of the red-armored warrior with double horns from behind his pile of documents, and began to secretly record his "Qunqing Observation Diary".

"The personnel sent by Ataxia that you assigned to me arrived at the site and increased efficiency by 77 percent within a few minutes. The project was finally completed on schedule."

His voice also carried a kind of helpless exhaustion of spirit rather than physical fatigue.

The warrior wrapped in scriptures walked to his desk, picked up the Rekha coffee with a little smoke on it, took a sip, then walked to the huge French window with it, looking at the scenery outside in a trance: New Badab was still shrouded in ominous yellow fog, the curtain of the warp wrapped around it, the black normal universe and the bizarre wind of the warp blended together, changing all the time, countless eyes opened and closed every moment, each eye contained all the colors known to mankind, they were so weird and beautiful, but they brought only chaos and destruction to anyone attracted by them.

"It is a good thing that the project is completed on schedule, Your Highness. I think."

The Master of Alchemy chose his words carefully. Although the Primarch agreed with his words, and that something had to be sacrificed for the success of the undercover operation, he said that there would be no revenge. Luft Huron would eventually have to pay a high price for his offense against a Primarch and his evil deeds against the Empire, even if the offense was unintentional. Of course, the fact that the Thirteenth Primarch gritted his teeth while dismantling half of the already damaged wall of the Central Fortress with his bare hands might be one of the sources of his persuasiveness.

"Perhaps." Guilliman's real voice, with his evil and corrupt appearance, now sounded less ancient, cold and low than when he pretended to be in front of others. Now that the terrifying part of his voice was removed, it became clear and powerful again. "But I didn't expect that the current Empire..."

He hesitated for a moment. "You know, at first I just wanted to comfort them with gentle words and ask them to work hard, and by the way, learn about the current situation of the empire from these captives from different worlds."

Honsou gave Guilliman a doctor-like smile of understanding, but goose bumps had already appeared on his back, and he quietly put the shield generator of his power armor into automatic defense mode.

"...You really care about the welfare of the people. By the way, we can't improve the treatment of the slaves any more, Your Highness. Some people are already suspicious. More than one person or alien has come to ask me how many of these fat slaves you plan to use. The rest are willing to be used as high-end... purchases..."

"Tell them this is part of our ritual supplies. We will continue to use it and not sell it." Guilliman frowned, his voice full of obvious disgust. The scroll wrapped around his waist made a rustling sound when he turned sideways. "I just want to chat casually, in a friendly way. Although I used the face of the Unborn, they were scared to death after seeing me. I told them to say anything, but the answer I got..." "...You know, as long as I want, I can create a cordial and friendly conversation atmosphere for anyone I talk to, give them high praise, and show myself according to all the preferences of their human nature, so that they will unconsciously speak more truthful words to me."

Guilliman looked at Honso deeply. His baby blue eyes were now amber, with a dark pupil forming a small dot in the center. The master of medicine suddenly realized what an evil, deep and vivid yellow iris this was. "It's okay. I know you are immune, and so are Wannus and the others. But only you can do this, so I think this is the effect of what you said about us going deep into the warp dream. This effect should also protect your soul and consciousness from being polluted by the warp energy here to a certain extent, but most of the others don't seem to have this invisible barrier that separates them. They should still belong to this time and space."

"...Thank you for your explanation, Your Highness. The effect you discovered may come from your brother's..." The pharmacist swallowed the word "blessing" and changed it to "technological means".

Guilliman nodded slightly. "Perturabo's words... I am not surprised that he could make such a magical device. But what I mean is that I did not expect that the captives I found came from so many classes and professions. The answers I got from them..."

His strong jaw tightened, the scar, which had become very shallow, showed through the seal of the armor, and he pursed his lips, and his skin tightened.

The Primarch turned around and faced the magnificent and sacred floor-to-ceiling windows of the cathedral that served as the command center. He raised his hands and covered his face tightly, unwilling to expose himself in front of his brother's offspring.

The master of alchemy was on pins and needles at the moment. Finally, he asked softly and considerately if he could leave now to give the Primarch some private space?

But Guilliman asked him to stay.

"Listen," said Guilliman. "Honso, bear witness. This is the honor I bestow upon you. It is not because of your amazing determination in the face of the Primarch, although your soul is also cold and ruthless. It is just that the words I heard made my chest feel like being pierced by thousands of arrows. My confusion and fear made me extremely fragile and unable to breathe. But at this moment, I can't find any of my brothers here, and you are close to one of my brothers. That is enough. Stay and witness the grief-stricken confession of a Primarch."

The mask of a professional smile that had always been on the Warsmith's face shattered and disappeared in an instant, leaving only the pharmacist laboratory director of the Destiny Steel, who sighed.

You see, this is the inconvenience of having an apprentice with the face of a primarch. The primarch's emotions have not been released, and continue to accumulate in this room. The strong emotional fluctuations in a place like the Maelstrom are more likely to infect others. Hong Suo can't help but feel that he might be able to take care of the primarch a little. Alas.

"Nine thousand years," Guilliman said, his voice thick with pain. "When you told me this, I thought things might still be able to turn around. In my memory, the Imperium was so vast, so great, so magnificent. My father left us so many wonders and greatness. I was optimistic that the Galaxy might not be as bad as you said..."

"But no! We failed! We failed!" The Primarch's angry roar was suppressed. "Look at them! All of them, regardless of the world they came from or their profession, are completely ignorant, stupid, decadent, and indulge in suffering and self-torture to gain comfort and relief! Reason, hope, enthusiasm for the future, the dream of pursuing the future - all disappeared! I can see that it is not because they were captured that they became like this, but because they truly believe that only God can save them from the suffering of this world -"

Guilliman let out a sound that was half mocking laughter and half desperate whine.

"All of this! All the stupidity, blindness and sacrifices were made in the name of the only god! The irony is that this god always emphasizes that he is not a god!"

He lowered his hands—Hongsuo saw with horror that there were suspicious flashes of light under his amber eyes—Guilliman clenched his fists and roared towards an unknown direction in the void.

"We have failed! Father! When Horus launched the rebellion, did he use the excuse that you had deceived all of us and intended to ascend to the position of God?! Didn't you let me impose that insulting punishment on Lorgar and his legion in the Perfect City in order to punish him so that he, his descendants, and the worlds he conquered would praise you as a god?!"

"How ridiculous! Father! What an ugly world! What a desperate galaxy!" Guilliman roared, swinging his fists and smashing everything in the room except the two desks. The Primarch's rage smashed the just renovated room to pieces in a few seconds.

"Look at what is left of this corrupt, bloated, ugly, swollen corpse! There is only greed, ambition, ignorance, fear and hatred abused by those with ulterior motives in its body! There is not a shadow of our dreams and the future in our dreams! Only its distorted and exaggerated appearance is still painted on the falsehood of gold and glass without reason but only theology! It is better for us to burn each other to death in the flames of Horus's rebellion! It is better than seeing the painful and desperate facts presented to me now!"

His eyes looked wildly through his amber disguise to the ornate stained glass window, the strange colors of the warp shining on his face, there was nothing there, only the temptation of eternal chaos calling its children. Honsou frowned.

"My Lord," he said softly, then raised his voice, "Your Highness!!" His medical power armor speakers added some high-frequency bands, "Master Guilliman! There is still hope!!"

“Hope…” Guilliman half-hunched his back and slowly turned to Hongsuo. Not sure if it was an illusion, but the master of alchemy always felt that the pair of black and red bone horns of his illusionary disguise… had become a little bigger… ?
"Yes! Your Highness, there is still hope! Your brother! My father, with the fragments of your other brothers he rescued!"

“Brother.” A glimmer of light reappeared in Guilliman’s eyes. “Yes. Brother, I still have brothers. I…”

“You are not alone.”

"I'm not alone... there is still hope!"

(End of this chapter)